This is my first FF ever and English is not my first language, so please be nice . . .
And if you really make it through to the end, please give me a little review! I'm always open for constructive critiques!

___[A KILLER'S NIGHTMARE]___

There she is, next to the man who had hurt her so much. Who literally put her into a trap. Who made her face all her deepest fears. Who grabbed her heart with an invisible hand to press until the last drop of old blood ran out on the floor - and who still hadn't hurt her as much as she'd been hurt in her past. Because the pain he brought to her was liberating instead of torturing. Because all those little deaths she died were meant to give her a new chance, a new life aside from weakness and loss of control. He made her be reborn. And she would always be gratefully surrendering herself to this man with every cell on her body and every fiber of her soul.

With a hash sob she sits up. Her bones hurt and she feels even more exhausted than some hours ago, when she decided to cower herself into the black armchair next to his bed and try to get some sleep. She recognizes cold little drops of sweat on her heated forehead while she tries to get the horrible sounds out of her head, the last remains of the nightmare she just awoke from. Looking over to the bed, where John is still sleeping, she gratefully recognizes she didn't disturb him. John has been the main character in her dream, like usual. It's always the same dream and it's always him playing the main part. That, indeed, is not really surprising, since he's the main character in her waking time, too. In fact, he's the only other person she has talked to for months now, besides some food salesmen and pharmacists and this annoying detective, Mark Hoffman. So she keeps dreaming of John for almost every night, but as the days are passing by, the darker grow her dreams. This time, the last thing she can remember is the sound of John's heart rate monitor - flatlining! Just the memory of the sound makes her shiver with fear and disgust again. But it's not real, it's not real. He's still lying there, in this room with her and everything's okay, according to the circumstances, she keeps repeating silently to herself.

In a twisted way, he was her black-winged guardian angel. This thought always makes her smile, just like right now. During her inner fight, he was the one who cared enough to save her from herself. He was the one who took her under his wings, when she broke down. He taught her everything she needed for her new life. And she loved it. She still loves it. In fact, she loves this man. Sometimes she's so lost in her mind, it makes her almost forget the fact, that sooner or later her saviour wouldn't be with her anymore. But deep inside she knows, no matter what she'd do, no matter how much she'd be willing to give everything she has - she would never be able to help him. John is going to die. That's a fact, it's inevitable. No, she would never be able to make him healthy again, to cure him from the disease eating away at him inside. She could never fix the man who fixed her long ago. All she can do, is being there for him. And she is there, always by his side. That's the least she could do. In fact, it's the only thing she could do and she does it with all her love and patience.

This night is rather one of the worse nights. She is relatively used to the fact that he's fading more and more every day. At least as used as someone could be in a situation like this. John is bedridden for a couple of weeks now and she's taking care of him 24 hours a day, trying to make him as comfortable as possible. But tonight he seems so much frailer than ever before. She hates the fact that this terrible tumor, which causes them both so much pain, is indeed a part of the body she loves more than anything, more than life itself. It doesn't make sense. In a moment like this, she feels like she's on the edge of becoming insane. How can a person stand all this suffering and sorrow? How can she survive his upcoming death? No, she doesn't want to think about it now. She forces herself to calm down as much as possible. She wants to be strong tonight. She wants to be strong for him and prove that she had learned her lessons.

His thin eyelids flicker as he suddenly coughs out loud and startles her out of her inner self-comfort monologue. His whole body's shaking underneath the thin yellow shirt as he coughs again. A sudden pain pierces through her heart, she can physically feel it while she's watching him, realizing again how weak he seems in the pale moonlight, which is tenderly floating through the curtains of their current lair. It's unbelievable to her how anyone out there could ever see John as a monster, a killer. To her, he's rather a saint, surrendering the last bit of his own life to other people, trying to make them whole again. How can people not see that? Yes, he brought her close to death, but he also gave her a possibility to survive. It was always in her hands. John does not want to simply kill someone for his own sick pleasure, he wants people to decide themselves, he wants to test and revive their survival instinct. She wishes she could go out and show everybody how brilliant his methods are, as a living proof of their success. But she can't, she probably never can. She needs to hide in the shadows, that's the price she has to pay for helping him with his work. Especially since he wasn't able to physically manage it all alone anymore. But she considers it a low price for keeping his philosophy safe and his legacy alive. She's not allowed to get her cover blown, she has to take over the charge, more and more, because she's the one who's been chosen for the honor of carrying on John's work, after he... No! She doesn't want to even think this sentence to the end! With flying hair she tries to shake those thoughts out of her head. But she knows, they will return eventually.

Opening her eyes again, they suddenly meet John's gaze, connecting with his own, so pale and blue like melting ice, yet still so warm and gentle. Instantly, a little smile appears on her face. But although it's real, it's not able cover up the slight expression of sorrow, which is still traceable in her face. "What's wrong, Amanda?", he whispers, almost inaudibly. "Oh, it's nothing John, I'm fine...really!", she responds, trying not to worry him. Although she knows it's pretty absurd to even try to hide her real feelings, because he always finds out the truth. He could always read her like an open book, from her first day on. The mask she had put on her face for almost her whole life has never been an obstacle for him. She can very well remember how naked and vulnerable she felt, whenever he was near, in the beginning. But meanwhile these feelings have changed to the opposite. She can never since get enough of being close to him.

Although she tries hard to avoid his blatant gaze by looking into another direction now, she knows that he watches her. She can see it from the edge of her eyes. Lying in his bed, his legs and waist covered by his black and red robe -one of the material symbols of his own rebirth, which happened long ago during his suicide attempt- he watches her with his left eyebrow raised. Then he slowly puts his hand down onto the bed, next to himself, silently asking her to come over to him. "Please", he says in a calm and gentle tone. After standing up and walking over to him immediately, she carefully places herself on the edge of his bed, slightly touching his covered thighs with hers. Although she's sitting on top of the sheets, she's able to feel the warmth of his body next to hers. There's no feeling in this world she enjoys more. Finally she dares to look up and there they are again: Those beautiful blue groundless eyes with all those deep laughter lines around them. And they're looking at her, and her only, with the same depth she's always been fascinated by. And so she finds herself looking back without blinking for not to miss any bit of this wonderful moment. She allows herself to enjoy it, to get lost in it for a few seconds. Finally, John breaks the silence by taking both her hands in his own, tightly gripping them, but without being rude. She hears him saying: "My dear, how often did I tell you there's no need to hide from me?"

His voice still sounds like velvet, a little roughened by his coughing though. Suddenly she notices a few little teardrops falling from her cheeks onto his silky robe. She cannot count how often John had seen her cry. Nevertheless, she knows he's still not able to stand her tears - that's why she often feels guilty when she's not able to hold them back anymore. She's been walking down a long hard road to achieve the goal, to become the person she is today. She had learned and worked so hard and with such a great dedication to advance, to grow the way she did. She never knew that she's capable of a power like this. Once John said, that in a way, she reminds him of himself, of his own growing process. But there's still this small part of her, this little percentage of her old self, she just can't divest of. She can physically feel it's presence. But she knows that John has high hopes for her to also leave this last bit of her old life behind during the next weeks.

But tonight is neither the place nor the time for another lesson, tonight it's just him and her - not as teacher and apprentice, but as man and woman. She aches for his comforting touch right now. And as if he could read her mind, he smirks at the young woman with the dark eyes, whch always seem a little sad. "You had this dream again, hadn't you?" He reaches out to wipe away her tears. "Shhh, it's okay, it's okay. I'm still here, look!" Oh, how she loves him. No matter what it takes, she would never abandon him, she would never let him down, never fail him! "Come here to me, come closer. Please. Stop crying." Without protesting she lets him pull her down to his side and wrap his arms around her. Carefully slipping not only under the robe, but also under the other blanket, she's now cuddling up on his very body and and lets out a little happy sigh. She is well aware of the fact, that even though his outisde's fading more and more with every passing day, his inner strength and feelings for her are still unharmed. Almost instantly her tears stop floating when she's resting her head on his chest. What a beautiful feeling! Thousands of butterflies are starting a riot in her stomach, but in a good way. She can hear his heartbeat from where she lies. She can hear it beating through the thin cloth and his white haired skin and it is rather a bit too fast than too slow - and above all, it's far away from causing a heart rate monitor flatlining!

In her eyes, this life with John is worth all that pain and trouble she went through. Being so close to the man she loves, smelling his intoxicating scent and feeling his slim but strong hands caressing her body and stroking her hair, makes her feel like they are the only people in the entire world. It makes her feel secure, makes her forget and she knows that not even her nightmares can ever haunt her as long as she's here in his arms. "I love you, Amanda. You're my heart", he whispers gently into her ear. "I love you too, John", she answers.
She has no idea for how long they lay there like this, until she finally falls into the first calm sleep she's had for a long, long time.
But what she doesn't know, is the fact that this is also the last calm sleep she will have for a long, long time.

THE END

(c) by PuzzlePrincess